Guilt
by creampuffrollins
Summary: Ambrollins / Was supposed to be hate!sex but it turned into something a little more violent yet needed. TW:Blood / Violence (not major)


Dean hadn't seen him coming when the briefcase hit the back of his head sending him face down onto the mat. It was only a few strikes to his back before the beating was finished. The ring announcer spoke a set of familiar lines, 'and the winner of this match as a result of a disqualification, Dean Ambrose!'

Finally his body reacted to the pain as he groaned and rolled to his side, eyes locking on the traitorous Seth Rollins who was backing up the ramp with Randy Orton, wild grins along their faces. This had become too familiar for Dean and he was pretty damn fed up with it.

It was his sixth fuckin' win by disqualification and usually a guy in this business would be ecstatic about that but it's not so great when you're seconds away from pinning the opponent but then you're attacked by the bastard you once trusted your life with.

Dean was back to his feet pacing angrily around the ring, hands tearing through his soaking hair and disregarding the pain that shot throughout his body. He'd wanted to cut a promo where he threatens Seth's life one more time but it's a live show and the parents in the crowd might not appreciate the things he'd have to say. So he fled the ring quickly, storming backstage, mutturing angrily to himself.

"Seth you motherfucker, I know you're back here. You better run as fast as you can and find one hell of a hiding spot because you are a dead man!" Dean hissed, destroying everything and every person in his path. He was seeing red and mercy wasn't an option tonight.

Dean's rampage grew silent as only his heavy breaths fillled the air. The backstage had emptied out since his match closed the show. But he knows Seth is back here, he has to be, he was still in his gear about five minutes ago.

The lunatic stopped outside of Seth's locker room, nails digging into his palms. He has to be in there. His fist had pounded the door before he could think twice about it. He should cool down and walk it off but he's pissed off and tired of all the bullshit he's dealt with the past few months because of Seth.

It shouldn't hurt him as much as it does. But he's in love with the traitor, they had a relationship together before Seth beat his back with a steel chair. There was no communication since. He should hate Seth but he just can't bring himself to. Dean knew better than to bother with him because he'd knew he would fall for his stupid lies and probably be betrayed again, trust had died. But the pain of dealing with it silently every day has become far too stressful.

The door opened wide as Seth turned to face his visitor, freezing in fear when his eyes locked on Dean's. He tried to slam the door but the lunatic overpowered him, sliding into the room and pinning Seth against the wall.

Dean balled his fist up and brought it in the air ready to rearrange Seth's face and the look on his face only welcomed the beating. It was like he expected it and knew that he deserved it so he was going to take it like a man.

But Dean's fist loosened and dropped to his side. He felt his cock throb against his jeans and that guilty feeling that he had recognized so well settled in the pit of his stomach. 'No. I can't.' He'd repeated in his head.

"Hit me, dammit! I fuckin' deserve it. Break my damn face, Ambrose!" Seth urged, staring into the lunatics eyes.

Dean's fist tightened and collided with Seth's jaw, allowing him to drop against the tiled floor. Dean fell to his knees next to him, grabbing eagerly at his shoulders before crashing his lips on top of Seth's. He could taste the blood that ooze'd from his busted lip but that only drew more satisfaction. Seth kissed him back, hungrily. For once things felt normal again even if they were as far from normal as possible.

Dean finally pulled his lips from Seth's, gasping for air. An instant regret settled when his eyes locked on Seth's who stared up at him lazily.

The traitor smirked wildly, blood filled lips beginning to swell. "You can do better than that, Ambrose. I want you to feel like I did when I stomped your face into that steel chair."

Dean's fist collided with Seths face once again before he pressed his lips against Seth's bloodied mouth, kissing the pain away. There was something so weird and satisfying about it but it only turned the two of them on. Pain and satisfaction are two things the former couple know very well.

Seth bit at his lip, "Come on, fucking destroy me!" Seth shouted, shoving Dean off of him and leaning against the concrete wall.

Dean was back on his feet quickly, hands tightly against Seths' throat pulling him to his feet. Without much warning he hurled him towards the bench, watching as he collided hard with the steel and his body folding in half on the floor.

Dean stepped towards Seths' body, ready to suck the pain out of his mouth once again but Seth groaned in pain, clutching his stomach. Immediately Dean was at his side, eyes almost filling with tears and regret.

"Oh fuck! I think you broke my fuckin' ribs!" Seth groaned, breathing heavily.

Dean felt sick to his stomach. He wanted to hurt Seth like he'd hurt him but it didn't quite feel as right as he thought it would. "Shit. I'm sorry - I'm so sorry." Dean apologized, hands shaking against Seth's body.

"No, d-don't be sorry. This is what I wanted." Seth winced, pulling himself up against the bench.

Dean just watched Seth, hating how he could hardly move without biting at his lip trying to silence himself. Seth has always downgraded his injuries around Dean because he knows how paranoid he gets.

"Stop looking at me like that, dammit, I deserved it." Seth croaked, hands still wrapped around his stomach.

"God I feel so fuckin' guilty, did you feel guilty when you did it to me and Rome?" Dean asked after a long silence.

Seth remained quiet, eyes glancing to up to Dean's before he smirked. "Kiss me, make the pain go away."

It aggravated Dean that he'd just disregarded his question but his lips crashed against Seth's hard as his hands tangled in his two-toned hair aggressively. He felt the electricity that would collide through the two of them months ago. It felt good, it felt right, and it was so needed.

Seth tugged away from the kiss, resting his forehead against Deans and breathing heavily. "Yeah, I felt guilty. Still to this day I can feel the my hands vibrate as the steel chair collided against the both of you. It haunts me, Dean. Real fuckin' bad. I hate myself for it."

Dean actually believed everything he had to say, for once. There was a little bit of relief that he felt, a little smile forming against his lips. "It should haunt you, for fuckin' ever." Dean hissed.

"Don't worry, it will." Seth spoke, trying to hoist himself up from the floor.

"If your rib's broken, I ain't payin' the bill." Dean raised his hands in surrender, trying to make a little bit of light out of the situation.

"Yeah yeah, shutup. I'm taking a shower." Seth hobbled in the direction of his bathroom.

Deans hand caught his arm, twirling him towards him. "Let me help? Like old times. You're hurt because of me."

Seth rolled his eyes, "That'd be nice, I don't think I'm gonna' be able to scrub my ass myself anyway."


End file.
